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  • 23 Feb 2010
    Skiing was terrific as usual, I really enjoy it even though I may not have as much grace and style as those who grew up with it. My daughter also did really well in her first ski school and came second in her slalom race held on the final day of her course. I'm so proud of her and she can't wait to go again. It's still a crazy week though, I got back from skiing on Sunday, only to fly to the UK for a meeting on Monday, then this weekend I am off hiking as well, no rest for the wicked!! Nikki
    2496 Posted by Nikki Hollm
  • Skiing was terrific as usual, I really enjoy it even though I may not have as much grace and style as those who grew up with it. My daughter also did really well in her first ski school and came second in her slalom race held on the final day of her course. I'm so proud of her and she can't wait to go again. It's still a crazy week though, I got back from skiing on Sunday, only to fly to the UK for a meeting on Monday, then this weekend I am off hiking as well, no rest for the wicked!! Nikki
    Feb 23, 2010 2496
  • 27 Mar 2010
    I finally managed to get myself back into swimming again after about two years. The reason? Well, mostly because the pool changed their opening times which meant I now have time to go for a swim after I have given guitar lessons, or been to the gym, which takes up five evenings a week between them. It did feel nice to be able to stretch out in the pool though, and of course the jacuzzi afterwards is always a good place to finish for the evening. Wonderful!Nikki
    2481 Posted by Nikki Hollm
  • I finally managed to get myself back into swimming again after about two years. The reason? Well, mostly because the pool changed their opening times which meant I now have time to go for a swim after I have given guitar lessons, or been to the gym, which takes up five evenings a week between them. It did feel nice to be able to stretch out in the pool though, and of course the jacuzzi afterwards is always a good place to finish for the evening. Wonderful!Nikki
    Mar 27, 2010 2481
  • 30 Sep 2009
    It was just after 9:00 am on Monday, September 21st 2009 that mother passed away. It was exactly one month from the day that I acted to fulfill her final wish and brought her home. It was three months since I'd had known that her time was near, nine months since I knew that she was even ill and nearly three years since the day I'd arrived at home to be her company in her final years and to begin the final steps of my own transition.I have lived as Ann for two years now. It has passed in a blink. It wasn't as I imagined it would be. In some ways it was incredibly easy. From the very first day that I arrived at work as Ann, I didn't feel special in any way. Within days, as I now recall, I was Ann. After a life's denial, I guess I expected that it would feel special, different, but it didn't. Did that mean that I'd found myself or was I missing the whole point?Confidence came quickly to me and for that I must credit my few friends and especially my mother. She'd lost a son but gained a daughter but she did so with grace and kindness and without qualification. We spent a lot of time together, she and I. We'd go shopping and I'd give all the time that she wanted. We'd stop for coffee at Tim Horton's. We'd sit and she'd review her life with candor and honesty, sharing with me as a friend more than as one of her children. She accepted me, wholly. It was a wonderful time.The pain of crisis that I had endured in the final months before my decision to transition became a reality -- the moment when I left behind my old life, a wife, a house and home, a business, my whole world -- to be myself melted away in her company. I found a style as Ann very similar to my style as Michael. I found inside me the very same person I'd always been. Why does the outward appearance matter so much to us? We must have been quite a pair as we shopped for groceries, we were noticed and often clerks or stock boys would talk to us. We became known. Our lives intertwined. She talked of the future and the little time left, but it wasn't real.I visited her every day in hospital. She seemed well enough. Certainly, she could be feisty. My siblings came and determined that I could no longer look after her. I 'wasn't well enough'. Mother accepted this at first but as time passed her mind changed. She wanted to go home. The family resisted and pressured her. She resisted in silence, often doubting that she could survive in palliative care or even a home for the elderly. "What ever it is that you wish, mother, that I what I will do."A day came that the doctor told her, "There are only a few months now." and she turned to me and said, "Please, would you take me home?"  I did.The anger of the family at this was soon revealed. She came home able to walk with a walker, but no one came to visit. No one called. "I have done the right thing." she would say to me, "I just want to be at home." In that first week, she walked to the table each morning. We watched the morning sun sparkle through the branches and onto the lawn. I cooked porridge and she'd ask for Cream of Wheat. I'd make scrambled eggs and she would ask for a poached egg. I happily complied. We talked until she tired. Slowly she would find her way back to the bedroom to rest. I would sit in the garden and wait and wonder what the end would be like -- for both of us.Being a caregiver is quite beyond the effort of simply being company. The load was greater than I expected and tenderness and attention take great effort. I began to weaken with the effort and grew resentful that the family was silent and absent -- their way of showing displeasure. As I stood in the dark silence of evening garden, sipping the day's last coffee, smoking a cigarette to calm myself, my neighbour would peer over the garden fence and invite me into his garden for a few minutes conversation and a beer."Where is your family?" he would ask. He would share insights of his mother's passing at home and assured me of my strength. I felt comforted.In the second week, the walker was surrendered to a wheelchair. Support nurses began to visit each day. The local hospice came with support for me. I could finally sleep. The house began to change as furniture was moved to make way for the wheelchair and the meals became small. Her naps grew longer and more frequent. I sat in longer, deeper silence with my thoughts. I wondered at my future. I felt alone and unable.There was no time for a job now. I asked for a leave but was told I was now "too unreliable" and they couldn't commit to my return. I left in anger and relief, but I was scared. I had no job.There was support in the house now -- for mother and for me -- but still no family. At the end of the second week, mother lapsed badly. I called the family. An army of siblings arrived with partners in tow. I was displaced as if I were no more than staff. Mother regained and could talk. Tears were shed, help was offered. And then they all left.In the third week the wheelchair too was surrendered, for only brief moments was mother out of bed. A hospital bed arrived, and oxygen. With each day, home slipped away. Meals became delicate, quiet and brief. My infringement of her dignity, the essential intimacy of patient and caregiver grew, as I helped her with her toilet and helped her to and from bed. She talked little and slept often. I brought a flower each day from the garden. Each was her favourite. The summer began to wane and I worked the garden to find some peace and sense.  I slept in her displaced bed, next to the hospital bed. She slipped further away.In the fourth week, the family arrived. The trials of the passed weeks were ignored. My older sister took over. She interceded with the doctor and nurses who visited. I was given instructions of what I should be doing. I was now told how to care for mother. I was hurt more deeply than I know and angered too. My desire to fulfill mother's last wish to me was usurped. I felt petty and guilty for my anger. Emotions boiled and all the while mother slipped further away, but we shared a nightly vigil.I have worked in a hospital. I have seen dying and death. I have been dispassionate, but you cannot be so with family. Mother had guided me through the darkest parts of my transition, through the losses, the regrets and the doubts. She had been a constant in my life. That light was going out. Finally, her voice and perhaps thoughts were silenced. Throughout, mother had declined painkillers. I don't know if she felt pain but certainly she wanted to be aware and awake as long as possible. My sister and I argued. "Leave her be!", I wanted to shout at my sister. Medication was given once and then rejected by mother by silent waves and pursed lips. Finally in a moment of clarity, mother accepted the nurse's suggestion of morphine. I knew with that that the end had come.I stayed with her that night, each few hours administering a needle of morphine. It was not a long night, nor was it tiring. It was a night that seemed to take place all at once in my memory. I brushed her hair lightly not to disturb her sleep. Her breathing faded. I lay in the bed beside, without thoughts. At dawn I gave her a last needle. I knew that for me she was already gone. I woke my sister that she might share whatever last moments remained. Whatever last moment my sister needed with mother I wanted her to have. At 9:00 am the nurse came quietly out of the room and announced her passing. I didn't cry. I didn't feel sadness or regret. I felt relief that her struggle was over. I hoped that I had fulfilled her wish.
    2468 Posted by Ann Teve
  • It was just after 9:00 am on Monday, September 21st 2009 that mother passed away. It was exactly one month from the day that I acted to fulfill her final wish and brought her home. It was three months since I'd had known that her time was near, nine months since I knew that she was even ill and nearly three years since the day I'd arrived at home to be her company in her final years and to begin the final steps of my own transition.I have lived as Ann for two years now. It has passed in a blink. It wasn't as I imagined it would be. In some ways it was incredibly easy. From the very first day that I arrived at work as Ann, I didn't feel special in any way. Within days, as I now recall, I was Ann. After a life's denial, I guess I expected that it would feel special, different, but it didn't. Did that mean that I'd found myself or was I missing the whole point?Confidence came quickly to me and for that I must credit my few friends and especially my mother. She'd lost a son but gained a daughter but she did so with grace and kindness and without qualification. We spent a lot of time together, she and I. We'd go shopping and I'd give all the time that she wanted. We'd stop for coffee at Tim Horton's. We'd sit and she'd review her life with candor and honesty, sharing with me as a friend more than as one of her children. She accepted me, wholly. It was a wonderful time.The pain of crisis that I had endured in the final months before my decision to transition became a reality -- the moment when I left behind my old life, a wife, a house and home, a business, my whole world -- to be myself melted away in her company. I found a style as Ann very similar to my style as Michael. I found inside me the very same person I'd always been. Why does the outward appearance matter so much to us? We must have been quite a pair as we shopped for groceries, we were noticed and often clerks or stock boys would talk to us. We became known. Our lives intertwined. She talked of the future and the little time left, but it wasn't real.I visited her every day in hospital. She seemed well enough. Certainly, she could be feisty. My siblings came and determined that I could no longer look after her. I 'wasn't well enough'. Mother accepted this at first but as time passed her mind changed. She wanted to go home. The family resisted and pressured her. She resisted in silence, often doubting that she could survive in palliative care or even a home for the elderly. "What ever it is that you wish, mother, that I what I will do."A day came that the doctor told her, "There are only a few months now." and she turned to me and said, "Please, would you take me home?"  I did.The anger of the family at this was soon revealed. She came home able to walk with a walker, but no one came to visit. No one called. "I have done the right thing." she would say to me, "I just want to be at home." In that first week, she walked to the table each morning. We watched the morning sun sparkle through the branches and onto the lawn. I cooked porridge and she'd ask for Cream of Wheat. I'd make scrambled eggs and she would ask for a poached egg. I happily complied. We talked until she tired. Slowly she would find her way back to the bedroom to rest. I would sit in the garden and wait and wonder what the end would be like -- for both of us.Being a caregiver is quite beyond the effort of simply being company. The load was greater than I expected and tenderness and attention take great effort. I began to weaken with the effort and grew resentful that the family was silent and absent -- their way of showing displeasure. As I stood in the dark silence of evening garden, sipping the day's last coffee, smoking a cigarette to calm myself, my neighbour would peer over the garden fence and invite me into his garden for a few minutes conversation and a beer."Where is your family?" he would ask. He would share insights of his mother's passing at home and assured me of my strength. I felt comforted.In the second week, the walker was surrendered to a wheelchair. Support nurses began to visit each day. The local hospice came with support for me. I could finally sleep. The house began to change as furniture was moved to make way for the wheelchair and the meals became small. Her naps grew longer and more frequent. I sat in longer, deeper silence with my thoughts. I wondered at my future. I felt alone and unable.There was no time for a job now. I asked for a leave but was told I was now "too unreliable" and they couldn't commit to my return. I left in anger and relief, but I was scared. I had no job.There was support in the house now -- for mother and for me -- but still no family. At the end of the second week, mother lapsed badly. I called the family. An army of siblings arrived with partners in tow. I was displaced as if I were no more than staff. Mother regained and could talk. Tears were shed, help was offered. And then they all left.In the third week the wheelchair too was surrendered, for only brief moments was mother out of bed. A hospital bed arrived, and oxygen. With each day, home slipped away. Meals became delicate, quiet and brief. My infringement of her dignity, the essential intimacy of patient and caregiver grew, as I helped her with her toilet and helped her to and from bed. She talked little and slept often. I brought a flower each day from the garden. Each was her favourite. The summer began to wane and I worked the garden to find some peace and sense.  I slept in her displaced bed, next to the hospital bed. She slipped further away.In the fourth week, the family arrived. The trials of the passed weeks were ignored. My older sister took over. She interceded with the doctor and nurses who visited. I was given instructions of what I should be doing. I was now told how to care for mother. I was hurt more deeply than I know and angered too. My desire to fulfill mother's last wish to me was usurped. I felt petty and guilty for my anger. Emotions boiled and all the while mother slipped further away, but we shared a nightly vigil.I have worked in a hospital. I have seen dying and death. I have been dispassionate, but you cannot be so with family. Mother had guided me through the darkest parts of my transition, through the losses, the regrets and the doubts. She had been a constant in my life. That light was going out. Finally, her voice and perhaps thoughts were silenced. Throughout, mother had declined painkillers. I don't know if she felt pain but certainly she wanted to be aware and awake as long as possible. My sister and I argued. "Leave her be!", I wanted to shout at my sister. Medication was given once and then rejected by mother by silent waves and pursed lips. Finally in a moment of clarity, mother accepted the nurse's suggestion of morphine. I knew with that that the end had come.I stayed with her that night, each few hours administering a needle of morphine. It was not a long night, nor was it tiring. It was a night that seemed to take place all at once in my memory. I brushed her hair lightly not to disturb her sleep. Her breathing faded. I lay in the bed beside, without thoughts. At dawn I gave her a last needle. I knew that for me she was already gone. I woke my sister that she might share whatever last moments remained. Whatever last moment my sister needed with mother I wanted her to have. At 9:00 am the nurse came quietly out of the room and announced her passing. I didn't cry. I didn't feel sadness or regret. I felt relief that her struggle was over. I hoped that I had fulfilled her wish.
    Sep 30, 2009 2468
  • 19 Aug 2011
    I've been thinking back to my dressing when I was very young. I think the first thing I ever wore was a pair of tights, & I got caught by everybody. I didn't get in trouble but I was told not to do that again. The thing is I don't remember how old I was. But it stayed with me, I wanted to dress & look like a girl so bad.  I didn't know anything about how a girl really dressed. My mom & dad both worked so if I stayed home from school I was alone in the house.  I'd go into my sisters room & just look at her clothes. I was to scared to try anything on. At First. She had some skirt sets, matching skirt & vest or jacket. I'd never seen her wear them. When I did finely start to dress I was so suprised that they fit me so well, since my sister was 5yrs older than me. Turns out they were to small for her anymore. There were 5 or 6 different sets & I put them on as often as I could. Then one day they were gone, she got rid of them. I only just found out that she threw them out so I'd stop wearing them. She knew because I hung them back up wrong. I think that's why on Holloween she'd help me dress up in panties & everything every year.
    2464 Posted by Karen Brad
  • I've been thinking back to my dressing when I was very young. I think the first thing I ever wore was a pair of tights, & I got caught by everybody. I didn't get in trouble but I was told not to do that again. The thing is I don't remember how old I was. But it stayed with me, I wanted to dress & look like a girl so bad.  I didn't know anything about how a girl really dressed. My mom & dad both worked so if I stayed home from school I was alone in the house.  I'd go into my sisters room & just look at her clothes. I was to scared to try anything on. At First. She had some skirt sets, matching skirt & vest or jacket. I'd never seen her wear them. When I did finely start to dress I was so suprised that they fit me so well, since my sister was 5yrs older than me. Turns out they were to small for her anymore. There were 5 or 6 different sets & I put them on as often as I could. Then one day they were gone, she got rid of them. I only just found out that she threw them out so I'd stop wearing them. She knew because I hung them back up wrong. I think that's why on Holloween she'd help me dress up in panties & everything every year.
    Aug 19, 2011 2464
  • 10 Aug 2008
    HOW TO PROPERLY PLACE NEW EMPLOYEES1. Put 400 bricks in a closed room.2. Put your new hires in the room and close the door.3. Leave them alone and come back after 6 hours.4. Then analyze the situation:a. If they are counting the bricks, put them in the Accounting Department.b. If they are recounting them, put them in Auditing.c. If they have messed up the whole place with the bricks, put themin Engineering.d. If they are arranging the bricks in some strange order, put themin Planning. If they are throwing the bricks at each other, put them in Operations.f. If they are sleeping, put them in Security.g. If they have broken the bricks into pieces, put them inInformation Technology.h. If they are sitting idle, put them in Human Resources.i. If they say they have tried different combinations, they are>>looking for more,yet not a brick has been moved, put them inSales.j. If they have already left for the day, put them in Management.k. If they are staring out of the window, put them in Strategic lanning.l. If they are talking to each other, and not a single brick hasbeen moved, congratulate them and put them in Top Management.m. Finally, if they have surrounded themselves with bricks in sucha way that they can neither be seen nor heard from, put themin Parliament.
    2451 Posted by christina dearlove
  • HOW TO PROPERLY PLACE NEW EMPLOYEES1. Put 400 bricks in a closed room.2. Put your new hires in the room and close the door.3. Leave them alone and come back after 6 hours.4. Then analyze the situation:a. If they are counting the bricks, put them in the Accounting Department.b. If they are recounting them, put them in Auditing.c. If they have messed up the whole place with the bricks, put themin Engineering.d. If they are arranging the bricks in some strange order, put themin Planning. If they are throwing the bricks at each other, put them in Operations.f. If they are sleeping, put them in Security.g. If they have broken the bricks into pieces, put them inInformation Technology.h. If they are sitting idle, put them in Human Resources.i. If they say they have tried different combinations, they are>>looking for more,yet not a brick has been moved, put them inSales.j. If they have already left for the day, put them in Management.k. If they are staring out of the window, put them in Strategic lanning.l. If they are talking to each other, and not a single brick hasbeen moved, congratulate them and put them in Top Management.m. Finally, if they have surrounded themselves with bricks in sucha way that they can neither be seen nor heard from, put themin Parliament.
    Aug 10, 2008 2451
  • 16 Oct 2009
    Here's some brief updates -Been in my new place for a month.  It's been working out fine, even though I have to get used to having a roommate again.  It's nice to be able to park right in front of where I live rather than blocks away.I go to Detroit next week to chair a panel at THE premier labor history conference.  My school is paying for it through their Faculty Development Fund.  Plus, I'll get to hang out with Karen Brad, something we haven't done in almost four years.I finally received copies of my book.  Look for an announcement about that soon.Me and Josie are doing just fine.  She really helped me out when I needed it.Getting new book proposals out there.  I hope to sign some contracts soon.I still don't have internet at my new place, so I get here when I can.The ex-wfe is being a bitch again.Mere
    2449 Posted by Meredith Newton
  • Here's some brief updates -Been in my new place for a month.  It's been working out fine, even though I have to get used to having a roommate again.  It's nice to be able to park right in front of where I live rather than blocks away.I go to Detroit next week to chair a panel at THE premier labor history conference.  My school is paying for it through their Faculty Development Fund.  Plus, I'll get to hang out with Karen Brad, something we haven't done in almost four years.I finally received copies of my book.  Look for an announcement about that soon.Me and Josie are doing just fine.  She really helped me out when I needed it.Getting new book proposals out there.  I hope to sign some contracts soon.I still don't have internet at my new place, so I get here when I can.The ex-wfe is being a bitch again.Mere
    Oct 16, 2009 2449
  • 10 Jan 2009
    well as some of you no im supouse to be in manc by now and im not , as some of you no im part of the team who run papillon do we contiue with it ...? do i continue with me .....? is all the heart ache and crap ive been through in the last 4 and a bit years realry worth it for the plus`s
    2445 Posted by christina dearlove
  • well as some of you no im supouse to be in manc by now and im not , as some of you no im part of the team who run papillon do we contiue with it ...? do i continue with me .....? is all the heart ache and crap ive been through in the last 4 and a bit years realry worth it for the plus`s
    Jan 10, 2009 2445
  • 05 Nov 2011
      Reading some post I noticed that some of us are referred to as the old timers. I guess we are. I've been at this site for a number of years. It's not the long time members that keep this site moving. As our numbers are getting smaller. It's the new members that keep things flowing. New thoughts, new ideas.  It's change & it's a good change.      I've been in a kind of funk for to long now. I keep thinking I'll be my old self again soon & have some fun here. But for some reason I just don't.  So many new girls I don't know. Don't take that wrong I think their great & wish I was on better speaking terms with all of them. Thye problem is not all the new names & faces it's me. I want to contribute more but I just don't. I just don't take the time or feel up to it. When I came to except that I will never be able to be the woman I want to be nothing really mattered anymore. Just living day to day.
    2422 Posted by Karen Brad
  •   Reading some post I noticed that some of us are referred to as the old timers. I guess we are. I've been at this site for a number of years. It's not the long time members that keep this site moving. As our numbers are getting smaller. It's the new members that keep things flowing. New thoughts, new ideas.  It's change & it's a good change.      I've been in a kind of funk for to long now. I keep thinking I'll be my old self again soon & have some fun here. But for some reason I just don't.  So many new girls I don't know. Don't take that wrong I think their great & wish I was on better speaking terms with all of them. Thye problem is not all the new names & faces it's me. I want to contribute more but I just don't. I just don't take the time or feel up to it. When I came to except that I will never be able to be the woman I want to be nothing really mattered anymore. Just living day to day.
    Nov 05, 2011 2422
  • 17 Jul 2010
    I know I don't blog as much as I used to.  It's hard to do that working two full time gigs.Dad is doing fine.  Thanks for your well wishes.Josie is doing fine.  Thanks for your well wishes.More later!I hope you're doing fine.  Thank yourself for well wishes.
    2420 Posted by Meredith Newton
  • I know I don't blog as much as I used to.  It's hard to do that working two full time gigs.Dad is doing fine.  Thanks for your well wishes.Josie is doing fine.  Thanks for your well wishes.More later!I hope you're doing fine.  Thank yourself for well wishes.
    Jul 17, 2010 2420
  • 25 Jul 2011
    I was talking with my sister or realy she was talking, I was listning, sort of. She asked me to hold on a second so she could check on something. As I was waiting I looked down at my legs & commented out loud that I needed to shave them. Well my sister heard my comment. That when she told she was sorry because she thinks it might be her fault. I don't remember ever having worn a dress before I was 7 or 8yrs old. But she told me that one summer when I was 4 or 5 our parents had to go to a funeral down south. They were gone for 3 weeks. I was left in my sisters care. I had 2 sisters living at home then. One was 10 the other 16. There was also another one that was married & she checked on us everyday. I guess I was being a little hard to handle. I had made a big mess in the kitchen & my clothes were covered in ketchup. It was the second time I made a mess of my clothes that day & my sister was so mad that she put a dress on me. All my sisters passed thier clothes down as they got older since we didn't have much money, so there were a lot of old dresses.  I guess my sister got the idea to keep me dressed as a girl. She talked me into it telling me it would be a lot more fun if I were a girl. So for the rest of the time my parents were gone I was dressed as a little girl. I don't remember any of it, wish I did. Now my sister is blaming herself for me being a TS. After she told me all this I wanted to say thank you. But I didn't say anything. I don't think that had anything to do with it but who knows?
    2414 Posted by Karen Brad
  • I was talking with my sister or realy she was talking, I was listning, sort of. She asked me to hold on a second so she could check on something. As I was waiting I looked down at my legs & commented out loud that I needed to shave them. Well my sister heard my comment. That when she told she was sorry because she thinks it might be her fault. I don't remember ever having worn a dress before I was 7 or 8yrs old. But she told me that one summer when I was 4 or 5 our parents had to go to a funeral down south. They were gone for 3 weeks. I was left in my sisters care. I had 2 sisters living at home then. One was 10 the other 16. There was also another one that was married & she checked on us everyday. I guess I was being a little hard to handle. I had made a big mess in the kitchen & my clothes were covered in ketchup. It was the second time I made a mess of my clothes that day & my sister was so mad that she put a dress on me. All my sisters passed thier clothes down as they got older since we didn't have much money, so there were a lot of old dresses.  I guess my sister got the idea to keep me dressed as a girl. She talked me into it telling me it would be a lot more fun if I were a girl. So for the rest of the time my parents were gone I was dressed as a little girl. I don't remember any of it, wish I did. Now my sister is blaming herself for me being a TS. After she told me all this I wanted to say thank you. But I didn't say anything. I don't think that had anything to do with it but who knows?
    Jul 25, 2011 2414